


your lips, my lips, apocalypse

by finedae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blowjobs, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Oral Fixation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, but by ksoo’s mouth, jongdae is dickmatized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finedae/pseuds/finedae
Summary: Kim Jongdae has the well earned reputation of being an upstanding citizen, which is why when he receives the ambiguous,“I need you,”text from one Do Kyungsoo and a follow up to meet him at his dorm, his first instinct isn’t to run halfway across the campus. It’s to check his wallet for condoms.





	your lips, my lips, apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zannen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zannen/gifts).

> i'm writing after two years(???) pls be gentle. cranked it out in one sleepless night, the gods possessed me and told me my true purpose is to write chensoo porn
> 
> gifting this to zannen because i looked up 'gift ao3' on twitter for writing inspo, and zannen has written some of my favourite baeksoo fics (!!!) so here's to never meeting your heroes
> 
> they fuck to tchaikovsky because it played for 10 hours while i wrote this they nut to the nutcracker

Kim Jongdae has the well earned reputation of being an upstanding citizen, which is why when he receives the ambiguous,_**“I need you,”**_ text from one Do Kyungsoo and a follow up to meet him at his dorm, his first instinct isn’t to run halfway across the campus. It’s to check his wallet for condoms.

Jongdae actually feels a little trepidation knocking, because the last time he was at this particular dorm, Chanyeol spent half a morning blowing his back out. That’s why the first words slip to out of Jongdae’s mouth as Kyungsoo opens the door are:

“You look like shit.”

To be fair, Kyungsoo looks like hell; and the difference is palpable from his usual neat presentation. The bags under his eyes, the oversized stained jumper that doesn’t belong to him, the obvious slump of his shoulders, hair unkempt. Jongdae tries to soften it with a, “Are you okay?”

Kyungsoo hums, letting Jongdae in and mumbling something about Chanyeol being out. Their dorms are familiar and nondescript in layout, but it’s clear from the unmade bed and clothes strewn around the floor that Kyungsoo just woke up at noon.

“I have a paper due. Professor Jung.” Kyungsoo starts, sitting on the bed with his laptop open. Jongdae frowns, he had her classes last year to clear his humanities credit, but he wasn’t here on the premises of a study date.

“Ah well, she can be lenient on extensions,” Jongdae says, taking a seat beside him, peeking a look to the empty word document. _Ah._ He reassuringly pats Kyungsoo’s bare knee. It’s a little awkward, because he and Kyungsoo aren’t necessarily close friends but they aren’t acquaintances either.

They’d all met during one of those open invite mixers, Chanyeol accepting any excuse to take off his jacket and show off his built arms in a white tank while Kyungsoo rolled his eyes at him, dressed in sleeves and skintight jeans with an ass that wouldn’t quit. Jongdae could aesthetically appreciate from afar but Baekhyun, his roommate, made an immediate beeline grabbing his arm, practically throwing Jongdae on Chanyeol’s lap so he could clear path to shamelessly flirt at Kyungsoo. Whether his terrible pickup lines had any impact didn’t matter whatsoever as Jongdae walked into their room the next morning, with Baekhyun looking thoroughly fucked out. His smile told Jongdae he probably looked the same. They’d all bumped at other parties since.

Kyungsoo looks at Jongdae’s hand placement, and then to his eyes before coming to a decision and sighing. “Fucking Dokdo cast after party had us out till 4AM.”

Jongdae nods. Dokdo is a passion project with a hundred million won funding, that their legendary seniors who graduated and are credible names in the indie film scene are making. Anyone who got in even as an extra could have access to the industry’s up and coming — even Chanyeol had been scouted outside his music theory class to write an original score. Kyungsoo had a supporting role. Jongdae could sympathise with not being able to turn down sunbaenims and accidentally missing a deadline. But Professor Jung didn’t need to know that.

“Listen, why don’t you just email for an extension, say you were sick or your work called last minute and you’d be fired if you didn’t go — hey, that’s actually not untrue! I know she can be—” Jongdae suggests, trying to be helpful but is cut off.

“All emails are CC’d to the TA, Junmyeon hyung,” Kyungsoo lets him know. “That’s actually why I need you.”

“I play opposite Oh Sehun,” Kyungsoo elaborates at Jongdae’s confused face. And wherever Oh Sehun goes, so does Kim Junmyeon. Which means Kyungsoo spent last night getting hammered (_not_ in the fun way) alongside his Intro To Ethics teaching assistant.

Jongdae smiles at the irony, his eyes crinkling. Ah, so it’s this kind of favour. “So, how can I be of assistance?” He asks, squeezing his knee, Kyungsoo’s shorts disappearing under _not his_ oversized sweater, giving that faux innocent look Baekhyun often goes for.

Kyungsoo runs a hand through his hair, messing it up further. “I know you’re familiar with him,” he starts, and oh, is Jongdae familiar, “So... appeal to his better nature, get him to reconsider. Or distract him till I get to speak with Professor Jung. I don’t care. This paper counts for 20% of the final grade.”

“And why should I spend my free Tuesday distracting Ethics TA’s?” It’s too easy now.

This time, Kyungsoo looks at him completely unimpressed. “Doesn’t seem like you were busy,” he shrugs indifferently, “And you’re a Business major, so I doubt the ethics of it bothers you.”

Jongdae laughs at that, reaching out to pat Kyungsoo on the back and in the process leaning into his personal space and stage whisper, “Kyungsoo-ya, you should be nicer to whom you ask favours from.” The former’s hand slides down to his lower back.

Kyungsoo, to his credit, doesn’t react beyond straightening his back slightly. He holds Jongdae’s gaze defiantly, his eyes dropping to his lips for a second before he rises, laptop in hand, and moves to connect it to the changer on the desk, creating some space between them.

Jongdae leans back, he’s a reasonable man. He’s not expecting any begging, though a pretty please can sweeten a deal.

“Do this for me, and I’ll blow you.”

If this came out of Baekhyun’s mouth, it would’ve been seductive. But coming from Kyungsoo, it sounded like stating what today’s weather is. Unfortunately, self assured assholes are totally Jongdae’s type.

Still — “I can get that anywhere.” Jongdae scoffs, raising an eyebrow.

In a complete dick move, Kyungsoo’s bends over to bring out a water bottle. The sweater falls over his shoulder and he doesn’t bother fixing it, instead leaning against the desk and opening the bottle. “You could,” he agrees, “but they wouldn’t be me.”

Jongdae watches his Adam’s apple bob as he drinks, taking in this rare disheveled Kyungsoo. He’s never been propositioned this directly, nor has it ever sounded like an agreement on how to split the bill rather than flirting but it’s hard to deny the charm in the straightforwardness of it.

And well. Whoever has ever laid eyes on Do Kyungsoo will agree: he was born with cocksucking lips.

That afternoon, Jongdae coincidentally bumps into Kim Junmyeon at a cafe Oh Sehun just checked in on his SNS, claiming how it’s been too much and they have to catch up.

Do Kyungsoo gets an extra 48 hours to turn his paper in.

“Come over for your end of the bargain.” Jongdae gets a text after 3 days. Baekhyun wolf whistles at him when he catches him applying eyeliner. “Let me know if you’re bringing over sexy strangers, it’s rude not to share.”

Jongdae flips him off, trusty wallet in his jean pocket and heads out thinking of how not a stranger Kyungsoo is. It’s so like him to text him like they’re doing Pablo Escobar exchange instead of hooking up. He can almost see him, methodically going through the motions of the day like:

2:00-3:00 Lunch [x]  
3:30-indefinite Blow Jongdae [ ]

Thinking of it from that perspective made Jongdae consider that Kyungsoo had probably woken up, completely hungover from a business social obligation he couldn’t get out of, and faced with the deadline of a paper that’s worth 20% of the final grade. As an actor, he knows how important it is maintain appearances. And what do you do in that situation if you have connections who are friendly? You carry out sexual favours to get out of it. Jongdae considers how Baekhyun doesn’t fuck a friend to get them to do something for him. He fucks his friends because they’re hot, or because they did the dishes. But not as the incentive. And it’s also telling the most moral person Jongdae knows is Baekhyun. Morality has nothing to do with having the libido of a rabbit and the irksomeness of a Byun Baekhyun, thankfully.

All these thoughts cloud him when he knocks on Kyungsoo’s door.

“I kicked Yeollie out for a few hours,” Kyungsoo says, sounding breathless and pulling Jongdae in.

He has his hair very subtly styled where only people acquainted with his normal bowl cut would know it’s been carefully constructed, and Jongdae wants to cry because he looks so good but also because Jongdae does know him.

With thoughts of power imbalance and Monica Lewinsky swirling around his mind, he steps inside and is pushed against the door by a Kyungsoo who seems to be intent on manhandling him, “Soo-ya, you don’t have to do this.”

Kyungsoo’s hands freeze as he looks up, schooling his face into something neutral. “You don’t want this?”

“I do—I don’t want you to feel burdened to do this,” Jongdae hates this mask on Kyungsoo, being unable to gauge him. “I did what any friend would’ve done, it’s—you don’t have to.”  
He finishes weakly.

“Burdened? You think I don’t want this?”

“It doesn’t—it’s like Monica Lewinsky!” Jongdae is pretty sure the tips of his ears are burning with embarrassment under the scrutiny with which Kyungsoo is staring at him.

Now Kyungsoo just looks confused before going, “Yah! You think you’re the president of United States? And Kim Jongdae, you really think you can make me do anything I didn’t want to already?”

Jongdae can hear the audible lightbulb in his head as he realised he was the one being played the whole time. Kyungsoo looks at him, his gaze softening and a smile quirking at the corners. _“Do you want this?”_ Nod. _“I do, too.”_

Kyungsoo tastes like relief and victory, Jongdae didn’t take advantage of a hungover friend, also he and Kyungsoo are friends. And his friend is now kissing him.

It’s a gentle, chaste kiss with Kyungsoo’s hand cupping his jaw, until he opens his mouth slightly. Jongdae’s eyes are closed, he feels Kyungsoo’s hand slide down to his neck and the other on his hip keeping him against the door as the younger slides a thigh between Jongdae’s splayed legs. He feels his heart beating, picking up the pace as he slides his hands into Kyungsoo’s hair.

When they finally pull apart for air, Kyungsoo’s eyes are dark, his hair all mussed up and his lips redder than before. He’s so hot, it kind of stresses Jongdae out that he almost talked himself out of this.

He’d truly honestly be fine selling out all his contacts if it meant he could have Kyungsoo staring at him right now.

Jongdae enjoyed the thigh rubbing on his crotch, while Kyungsoo kissed along his neck peppering small kisses and nipping in between. At the graze of teeth, Jongdae pulled a little harder on Kyungsoo’s hair, eliciting a low moan.

  
His other hand slid down to Kyungsoo’s sides, settling on his ass. It’s sweating, there’s too many layers between them, and they keep scrambling for purchase but they also can’t keep their hands and mouths off each other.

Jongdae pauses for a second, his forehead against Kyungsoo’s, an oddly intimate moment. “Bed?”

Moving to the bed, Kyungsoo pauses for a second to turn the speakers on, before scrambling on top of Jongdae. As soon as the first notes of Tchaikovsky’s Pas de Deux plays, Jongdae laughs, “isn’t this too much?”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo’s pink around the cheeks but that could be due to the oxygen sharing, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” While his hands creeped up under Jongdae’s shirt, revealing his chest and he took one of his nipples between his teeth and gently tugged. The feeling shot straight down to his cock.

“You could’ve said something.” Jongdae whines on a moan as he looked at Kyungsoo kissing along his happy trail while his hands made quick work of his pants.

It’s kind of embarrassing how hard he is in such a short time, when his cock springs out as Kyungsoo slides off his boxers in one quick motion, leaned forward and breathed on it. Jongdae could feel himself twitch, the hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder clench. Kyungsoo put his hand on Jongdae’s hips to stop it from bucking, while the other gripped the base of his cock, licking a strip of the underside.

Jongdae sits up to whine at what’s taking so long, but Kyungsoo looks him directly in the eye and sings, _“Happy Birthday, Mr. President.”_ before taking his cock in whole — just as the crescendo of the music began.

  
There’s something about the thought of those eyes watching him with complete concentration and intensity that sent him over the edge. They held his now as Kyungsoo began licking the underside of his cock in broad lazy strokes. Jongdae’s legs shook slightly as the hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder dug his nails in. Kyungsoo paid it no need, tongue wrapped around him, coating him, the tip occasionally flicking under his head.

Jongdae wants to write sonnets about Kyungsoo’s mouth. It looks absolutely gorgeous stretched around his length. Jongdae does his best to not erratically move or hurt him, before Kyungsoo took his hand which was gripping the sheets and instead places it in his hair, a blink to affirm his action. He then went back to his brutal pace, and Jongdae pulling on his hair liberally, feeling him moan around his cock.

And whenever he thought he was going to come, Kyungsoo pulled back, licking lower, his thighs, his balls, everywhere but where he needed it most, letting the pressure fall just a little before he pushed it to rise again. Jongdae knew, with his single digit brain cells still functioning, that it couldn’t have possibly been hours and yet it felt that way. Heaven is a place on Earth and it’s inside Kyungsoo’s mouth.

“Kyungsoo-yah,” the end of his name turns into a C sharp. _**“Ah, wae~”**_

Jongdae’s aware he’s coming when both of Kyungsoo’s hands are on his hips, pushing him down while his mouth is still firmly planted on his cock. His eyes are closed to the point he sees stars, and by the time he has enough awareness to let go of poor Kyungsoo’s head, he’s lying spent, pants across his knees and shirt pulled to his chest, eyeliner runny and various hickeys littering his body.

“Pretty.” Kyungsoo comments cheerily coming back from the bathroom, wiping his mouth. Jongdae feels guilty seeing the wet spot on his pants. “Did you know you sing when you come?”

Jongdae’s finishing up the sonnet in his mind, which involves a stanza of a heart shaped smile. He’s also calculating his refractory time and how long till Kyungsoo’s tall roommate comes back.

Kim Jongdae is an upstanding citizen, who passed his Intro to Ethics class. And the only truly ethical choice here would be to eat Kyungsoo’s ass.

**Author's Note:**

> why is baekhyun mentioned so many times leave me demon (i love him)


End file.
